Dream Robot
by redisthenewblackington
Summary: Lizzington two-shot - After yet another steamy dream about Reddington, a misunderstanding throws Liz into a fit of jealousy, leading her to invite Ressler to the new Avengers film, right in front of Red. How will he react?
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Lizzington two-shot! The title is a shameless play on Dream Lover, as well as a reference to both Ultron and a little problem that has been plaguing our dear Lizzie in her sleep.

After the sudden explosion of Spader hotness while he does the obligatory press stuff for Ultron, my brain kinda stirred this up of its own volition. I'm calling the first chapter T, but the second is definitely moving into M territory. (Yeah, I've got a one-track mind. Sorrynotsorry)

Thank you for reading, and double thanks for any and all reviews. :) I hope you guys like it.

-...-...-...-

She couldn't go on like this.

For the third time in only a week, Liz woke up in the middle of the night laying horizontally across her shitty motel bed, panting, frustrated, and covered in sweat.

Well, fuck you very much,

Raymond fucking Reddington.

Oh wait - no. There was no fucking. She always woke up before he got that far. And YES she blamed him for the jilted dreams.

If he wasn't constantly in her personal space -

If he didn't take every opportunity to touch her -

If he wasn't always dressed. so. fucking. well -

If he didn't always speak to her in tones that were an entire octave below a musical staff -

And this one, Liz was loathe to admit even to herself, because goddamnit, she can take care of herself, and she never asked for any of this! But... If he didn't have a habit of trying to exchange his own life for hers at such an alarming frequency -

Well, if he didn't do ALL OF THAT, then these dreams wouldn't be happening in the first place.

Then, to make matters worse, Liz suspected that he knew, somehow. He'd recently started teasing her in the mornings, and oh, he took great pleasure in it too. Bastard. NO, Red. She wasn't sour like a grapefruit gusher slushie.

She was sour like a starving woman whose mouth has been wired shut. She was sour like a woman in her sexual prime who hasn't been laid in a year.

She could only scowl.

Sweat.

Sigh.

Salivate.

Fucking Raymond Reddington, for fucksake.

-...-...-...-

As soon as she arrived at The Post Office, Liz's phone started to buzz. She didn't need to check the caller ID to know who it was. She took a deep breath as the elevator doors parted, simultaneously swiping her finger across the screen.

"Keen!" Ressler shouted from behind an enormous cup of coffee.

She hates morning people.

Liz held up one finger, silently signaling him to wait, and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Reddington, you have something for us?" She asked.

All business.

"I do, if you'll meet me at the Adams Morgan safehouse in twenty."

"Oh, hell. I JUST got here. Fine, whatever. I'll be there soon." she replied, pocketing the phone without bothering to say goodbye. She mumbled a tiny prayer of thanks that he hadn't deemed it necessary to taunt her.

Then again, she hadn't given him the chance.

She spun a 180 on her heel and pressed the elevator button, but before the doors could even open, Ressler was behind her, tugging on her coat. "Where are we going?"he asked.

"*I* am going to meet up with Reddington."

"No, WE are," he argued.

"Don't worry about it. I'll fill you in when I get back."

"I just want to be gone before Navabi gets here." Recalcitrant, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I thought you liked Samar."

"I do, in the field. I hate being the third wheel with her and Aram."

Liz sighed and relented. "Alright." It's not like she wanted to be alone with Reddington, anyway.

The elevator doors opened and both agents stepped in. "Although," Ressler continued, "being the third wheel with you and Reddington isn't much better."

Her hackles raised instantly. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He chuckled humorlessly and shoved his free hand into his pocket. "You're angry with him 24/7. The rest of us have to start carrying knives to cut through the tension because it's so hard to get anything done with both of you involved, and in case you haven't noticed, he doesn't deal with us much without you."

Liz pushed her way past him and speedwalked to one of the FBI suburbans so that she could drive, trying to make herself appear too busy and task-oriented to bother with a reply. Frankly, she knew that she was too exhausted to fight without becoming emotional.

During the drive, Ressler made a feeble attempt to smooth things over with small-talk, and she played along, thankful for a change of subject. "Have you been to the new theatre in Georgetown yet?"

"Um, I didn't even know that we have a new theatre in Georgetown," she replied.

"I've heard it's really nice. They have an adults-only section that serves alcohol during the show."

BOOZE, YUM! It wasn't even 9AM, and a drink sounded absolutely divine. "Interesting concept," she replied non-commitally.

"The new Avengers movie came out last week."

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. Tom had taken her to see the first one. She liked it too, and actually wanted to see the new one, but had resisted the temptation. It seemed like every day, she had to do something that she still wasn't used to doing on her own. Eating alone in public and going to a movie theatre were both things that she hadn't mustered the bravery to attempt yet. She lived on takeout and motel cable.

When they parked, Liz heaved a heavy sigh that was masked by the sound of Ressler's door opening and closing. Thank goodness. She trailed behind him on their way to the door, where Dembe extended a greeting that looked just a little TOO even to Liz. She masked her immediate suspicion with a smile.

"Raymond's waiting for you in the library," he said.

"Tell him I'll be right there. Just gotta use the restroom real quick. We left The Post Office in such a hurry that I forgot how much coffee I'd already had."

"Certainly," he replied, but the corners of his mouth nearly twitched with tension.

Liz hated that she was better at reading Dembe than Reddington. As her eyes briefly met her partner's, she noted his suspicion of her, and she hated that even more. The clicking of her boots on hardwood echoed in the cavernous hall as she strode in the opposite direction of the men. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure that she was safely out of their line of sight as she passed the hall bathroom and made her way towards the one attatched to the master bedroom. If she got caught, she decided, she'd just say that she doesn't much like the soap in the guest bathroom.

A weak excuse, but whatever. Dembe was clearly uneasy about something, and whatever that 'something' was, she didn't expect Reddington to leave it somewhere that she might see.

She opened the door and her eyes immediately landed on a woman with wavy black hair who was pulling the thick curtains aside to peer through the window.

And oh yeah,

she was clad in only black lace panties and a men's white undershirt. Her legs were slender, toned, and at least a mile long. She looked like -

Liz's fists clenched at her side. Without turning around, the woman said, "Well, that was fast." She laughed and added suggestively, "Never thought I'd say that to you."

SAMAR.

THAT BITCH.

THIRD WHEEL INDEED, Ressler.

Fucking idiot.

Liz spun on her heel and practically ran to the safety of the hall bathroom before Samar could turn and discover that she wasn't talking to Red.

Liz splashed cold water on her face, biting her cheek so hard that it bled. SHE WOULD NOT CRY. Not here. Not now.

No. Scratch that. NOT EVER. Not for him. Never again for him.

She didn't really see what her problem was, anyway. Wasn't this what she had expected? Wasn't this exactly what she had assumed was going on? Wasn't it the reason that she had disliked the woman instantly? The reason she instinctively didn't trust her?

Not exactly.

The problem was that she actually DID like Samar. Maybe not at first. No, definitely not at first, but they had bonded, finally. That tends to happen when you stare into the face of death alongside someone and survive. God, she'd even had a highly-uncharacteristic heart-to-heart with the woman. Samar knew how possessive she was over Reddington. She knew, and apparently she'd only pretended to sympathize.

And then Liz woke up in the hospital, and who was holding her hand? Reddington. Reddington was in HER room, NOT Samar's. She later found out that Aram was with her. Truthfully, she knew what Ressler had meant about the pair, but to her, it always looked a little one-sided.

It looked A LOT one-sided, now.

Liz used a hand towel to dry her face, took a few deep, composing breaths, and made her way towards the library. As she passed the kitchen, she saw Dembe pouring a cup of coffee, but he didn't look up.

As soon as her feet hit the Persian rug that covered the library floor, Red's head snapped up, and he grinned. "Lizzie!" he boomed, so resonant that it penetrated her bones, and she winced before she could stop herself. Damn the high ceilings and their godawful acoustics.

He knowingly smirked at her reaction.

"Reddington," was the nicest greeting she could muster, crossing the room to take a seat next to her partner on the setee, safely out of Red's reach.

He'd get a black eye and a bloody nose if he tried to touch her now.

He studied her face carefully, and his stomach instantly filled with dread and concern. He swallowed thickly and clutched the corners of the manilla folder in his hands.

Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong, and he knew better than to ask her about it in front of Ressler. He had a sneaking suspicion about what the problem might be, but he thought too little of himself to believe that it could be true.

But his Lizzie was impatient. Apparently he'd taken too long to get down to business. She felt his eyes on her. "So, how can the FBI cater to your personal interests today?"

Ouch.

He stood up and passed the folder to Ressler. "That's the intel I've gathered from Glen, about our friend Jasper. It should prove helpful. I trust that you'll know how to put it to good use."

"What? Too busy to tell us exactly how to approach him? You aren't worried about our blunt, black and white thinking this time?"

Red still didn't think that his suspicions could be correct, so he decided to test them.

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to hold your hand. I have another engagement to attend this morning," he replied.

An unwise decision.

Liz huffed and turned towards Ressler. "Well, if this doesn't take all day, would you like to check out the new theatre tonight? I wouldn't mind seeing that Avengers film you were talking about." She smiled at him just a little too brightly.

Red's jaw tensed and lowered as if to speak, but then he closed it again, both wordless and worried.

Ressler momentarily blanched, more than slightly surprised. He reluctantly glanced at Red, wary of answering honestly in front of him. What the hell was she doing, anyway?

Before he could respond, she continued, "We should invite Aram too."

Red almost hissed.

Fuck. Really?

And Ressler relaxed at the suggestion, but only slightly. Tentatively, he replied, "Yeah, sure. That sounds good. He'll probably bring Navabi. It could be fun."

Oh, hell. He hoped that Reddington wouldn't think that it sounded like a double date. He hadn't meant it like that.

"Yeah, maybe," Liz replied, "if she doesn't already have plans."

If looks could kill, then the glare that she shot at Red would have done exactly that. He survived the moment, but while her eyes continued to cut into his heart, he wasn't convinced that he'd survive the night.

Or that Agent Ressler would either, for that matter, even though it was Lizzie that had put him into the awkward, dangerous position that he was in.

As worried as he was about Lizzie, both his jealous hackles and ire had been effectively raised. "Sounds like a party," he said, "Am I invited too?"

"Uh.." Ressler started.

Liz jumped to his rescue, "Aren't you usually too busy at night, anyway?" She smirked as if she had him all figured out, twisting the knife, and then stood up to leave. "We'll be in touch," she threw over her shoulder on the way out.

-...-...-...-

While Raymond met with Agents Keen and Ressler, Dembe brewed some coffee, and brought two mugs back to the master bedroom.

"Did you forget something?" Samar asked him, accepting the offered mug with a smile.

He looked at her, puzzled. "Is it too dark?" He asked. "I added two creams, one sugar, just like always."

"No, it's perfect." She grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. "I mean a couple minutes ago, when you came in, turned around, and left again."

"Oh... It seems I've forgotten something else." He pressed a kiss to her temple and smiled. "I'll be right back."

He headed towards the library with purpose. "Raymond, I think we have a problem."

Red sighed, running a hand across his scalp. "I'll say."

-...-...-...-

Red tried to contact Liz five times that day. Such a relentless bastard. If she'd actually needed help with the case, she would have answered, but she didn't. The only message that he left simply came out as a plea for her to call him back, but didn't say why. Most likely, he figured out that SHE KNEW about Samar, and wanted to apologize. She wasn't exactly subtle with him earlier.

But whatever. She didn't want to hear it.

Aram declined the movie invitation, claiming that his parents were in town. Liz was a little disappointed. She wondered if he knew about Samar and Red. She hoped that his parents really were in town.

That night, she took a cab to the theatre, anticipating a steady flow of white (not red) wine. In addition to service during the movie, there was a bar in the lobby. She shrugged off Ressler's protests as she pushed past him and made her way over. "We don't NEED to watch the previews," she huffed.

"That isn't the point. We'll get stuck with shitty seats."

"Then you can go in and save them for us."

"I'm not leaving you alone at some bar to get hit on by creepy old losers."

Unnecessary, but Liz appreciated his concern. She was more than just a little unhinged, and yeah, it probably showed. He was a good partner.

Then he added, "Reddington would probably kill me if he found out."

Did he really have to mention him? For christsake, could she ever get away from Raymond Reddington?

Apparently not.

Ressler glared at her when they finally walked into the dark theatre and found it packed. They managed to squeeze into the third row, which was far too close to the front for either of them.

But she found that she didn't much care. She was already tipsy when they sat down, but the movie was fantastic, and the wine kept flowing as they watched. Ressler wanted to stay through the credits, just in case there was an extra, post-credits scene. She really, really had to pee, but otherwise, she didn't mind too much.

Sadly, there wasn't one. As they stood up to leave, Liz's tongue was uncharacteristically loosened by the wine. "It might be for the best. The theatre seats can only take so much of Ultron's voice. They probably have to be hosed off between viewings."

"WHAT?"

She rolled her eyes at his shock. "Don't act like you didn't notice. They gave that robot a ridiculously-sexy voice. What the hell kind of casting choice was that, anyway? I need a cold shower."

"You've got to be kidding me. Ultron sounds EXACTLY like Reddington!"

She crossed her arms defensively. "No he doesn't."

FUCK.

FUCKFUCKFUCK.

He was right.

He knew better than to push her, so he let it drop.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the ladies room." She looked at her watch. "Gotta hurry though. My cab's probably out there waiting. This was fun. I'll see you tomorrow."

Okay, so she lied about the waiting cab. She'd have to call them, but if Ressler knew that, then he'd want to wait with her, and she was too embarrassed to deal with that.

"Alright, yeah, it was fun. See you tomorrow."

She hastily walked towards the bathroom. After she exited, Liz was relieved to see that he had actually left. Fortunately, she'd fooled him well enough with the little ruse. Standing outside on the sidewalk, she pulled out her phone to call the cab.

A cool breeze blew her hair back, away from her face, and a sudden warmth hit her ear, accompanied by a menacingly low voice. "I'm gonna show you something beautiful..."

Her breath caught in her throat as strong hands gripped her shoulders and spun her around. "Redd-" was all she got out before he pulled her close and covered her lips with his.

She started to pull back, indignant, but he just let out a low little growl and pulled her closer while his lips worked their magic on hers.

And god help her, she gave in and kissed him back, momentarily lost in a sensation that put her stupid dreams to shame with its intensity.

Too soon, however, she came to her senses and pushed him back, snarling. "I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate this very much," she spat, turning on her heel to escape.

But Red was quick to grab her hand and pull her back again. "Wait, Lizzie! Can we talk, please?"

She eyed him warily. He had some nerve!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Here's a very long, fluffy, smutty, silly ending. I hope you guys like it. Thanks so much for all of your support, love, and reviews!

Disclaimer: earning and owning nada, here

-...-...-

"There's nothing you could possibly say to excuse what you just did. Being with Agent Navabi is your prerogative. I have to admit that it explains A LOT, but stalking me at the movie theatre and apparently listening in on my conversation with Ressler is NOT OKAY. Then, to JUST KISS ME? No. Just NO." She wrenched her hand free of his grasp and added, "Fuck this, and FUCK YOU, Reddington!"

Before he could even take in a breath to reply, Liz had sprinted several yards away. "LIZZIE, SHE IS DEMBE'S LOVER!"

Huh? Slowly, the seething agent turned back and approached, glaring. When they stood only inches apart, she spat, "Bullshit."

"Lizzie, you know that I never lie to you. NEVER. If I were with Agent Navabi and I didn't want you to know about it, then I'd have told you that it isn't any of your business. I also wouldn't have kissed you because I wouldn't even be here right now."

Fuck. "No, Red. I USED TO know that. I don't know anything anymore, and it looks like I never did."

"Well, you're wrong. Come on, sweetheart. We can talk about this in my car."

"But we won't."

Perpetually petulent, his Lizzie.

"Please. We can't just go on like this forever. I can't go on like this."

Forever? Wasn't he presumptous?

She wanted his claims to be true. If he was being honest - if he really wanted her in the way that she wanted him - for keeps - then this could potentially be one of the most important conversations of her life.

The realization both terrified and elated Liz. She swallowed thickly and choked on the rising sob in her throat.

Maybe he really was going to show her something beautiful...

Hand clamped over her mouth, she reluctantly nodded, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, and then followed him to his Benz.

He held out his arm when she grabbed the backseat door handle. "Dembe has the night off. I'm driving. Sit with me in the front." He then proceeded to open the passenger-side door for her.

Unwilling to waste her energy on such a petty argument, she wordlessly complied, but while buckling her seatbelt, she said, "I've never seen you drive before."

As she did so, it occured to her that Red had never said anything about going anywhere. When she looked up, she could see that he was thinking the same thing and trying to maintain a neutral expression. "I was just about to call a cab. If you wanna talk, you'll have to drive me home."

Her excuse was A+, but the flush heating her cheeks bellied her embarassment.

"Gladly," Red replied, but made no move to even start the car. Hey, he had only said that he would. He didn't say that he'd do it immediately.

"I'd rather we do that now," she huffed.

"We do have a lot to discuss, Lizzie. I'm not sure if we can finish in the fifteen minutes that it takes to get to your motor lodge."

"Either NOW or I'm getting out."

Red's fingers twitched at the urge to hit the lock button. He didn't want to push her. "Okay, fine." He started the car and put it into reverse.

'Comfortably Numb' by Pink Floyd blasted through the speakers, and though she instantly reached forward to mute it, Liz couldn't help smiling sadly, just the slightest bit. She changed her mind and simply lowered the volume instead, so that they could both hear and easily talk over it. She wasn't at all surprised that Red was a fan. Sam had been too, and The Wall was one of his favorite albums.

She wondered if Red was playing it because he missed Sam. She herself did that, sometimes. Then, she wondered if their war with Berlin (for whose wall the album was titled) had temporarily sullied it for him. It had, for her.

She sighed. "Okay Red, if you want to talk, then talk. I'm listening."

Now THAT was truly music to his ears. She could use a lesson in listening, especially to him.

Without further preamble, he began, "I suspected that you had seen Agent Navabi this morning, but she's only been with Dembe for a couple of weeks now, and she hasn't yet divulged the information to Harold. I wasn't going to spill the beans in front of Buzz Lightyear."

"I don't see why Cooper would give a damn about that. He already thinks she's with Aram. Everyone does, actually."

"But she isn't."

"I'm not sure if I believe you."

"I've said it before, but I can only lead you to the truth, Lizzie. I can't make you believe it."

Her lips set a thin line. "Okay. Fine. Tell me about stalking me here. Tell me about that kiss."

"After you refused to return my calIs, I didn't have much choice but to follow you here. Actually, I didn't so much 'stalk' you as 'arrive first and wait until you were alone.' You did say 'the new theatre', and this is the only one."

She only continued to stare at him, so Red went on, "And since you seem to want the whole truth... part of me suspects that this is exactly what you wanted, whether or not you want to admit it. You didn't have to ask Ressler in front of me. You didn't have to say exactly what movie you were planning to see, or even which theatre. You wanted me to have that information for a reason."

"You are habitually suspicious. Do you know that?"

Well, it was true, but it also intentionally bypassed his point by a mile, and glaringly so.

"Yes, and so are you. Otherwise, you wouldn't have immediately made the wrong assumption this morning."

ZING. Also true.

"But," he continued, "I'm sure that you didn't intend to act on your jealousy."

"I was NOT jealous of Samar!" Liz was still indignant and guarded, dishonest even, but her armor was chipping under the weight of both his words and the lingering tingle of his lips on hers. "It still doesn't explain or excuse that kiss."

"Right. That kiss was..." Red trailed off and they fell into an extended silence, both listening to her favorite part of the song.

Suddenly, the lyrics developed a whole new personal meaning. It was no longer just about missing Sam. Now, it was also about her nebulous, shared past with Red. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she hurriedly brushed it away.

She assumed that he was carefully choosing his words, but while sitting on the proverbial edge of her seat, anxiously anticipating his explanation, she said nothing, giving him the time that he needed.

That was until he kept driving past her motel. "What the hell, Reddington? You said you were taking me home."

"Yes, and I intend to, but first we're going to my place so that I can prove what I told you about Dembe and Agent Navabi."

"That isn't necessary."

"Lizzie, if you want to know about that kiss, then you'll have to humor me."

Of course she did. In that moment, more than anything else in the world. "Okay, fine. I'm listening."

He'd never tire of hearing those words.

"The kiss wasn't planned, and I'll admit that I was wrong to do it. For that, I'm sorry. You want to know why? Well, I think that you already know why, but maybe you're not ready to admit it. Lizzie, you and I... we've been dancing around our mutual attraction from day one. Perhaps it was mostly 'mutual intrigue', at first, but it has been much more for a long time. Ever since Tom got out of the picture, it's intensified - almost unbearably. And when I heard what you said about Ultron's voice, and how you needed a cold shower, god... it simply WAS unbearable. I'm truly sorry, but it was. I can only promise to do everything in my power to avoid doing it again... if that's what you want."

Liz closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath before daring to reply, "Is that so?"

"You know that it is."

"Hmm..." This time, the silence was her own doing. Deep in thought, her head and heart waged a brutal war against one another. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him.

Most of all, she wanted HIM.

But Liz didn't utter another word until they arrived at the Adams Morgan safehouse.

PROOF, she thought. Yes, proof was exactly what she needed. It would certainly help.

Red's heart practically sang when she waited for him to open the door for her. Humoring his chivalrous nature was a good sign. He chanced placing a hand on the small of her back as he lead her in the direction of the master bedroom. She shivered at the contact, but didn't shirk away.

Laughter from the kitchen echoed and took them in that direction instead. It immediately stopped when Red and Liz entered. Both Dembe and Samar stared at her, uncertain of how to react. Liz chanced a quick glance at Red before addressing the pair. "Is it - is it true?"

They knew exactly what she meant, of course. Dembe's eyes searched Red's and found only reassurance. "It's true," he coolly replied.

"Well... Okay then." She started to turn, but Samar stopped her.

"Wait, Liz! I trust that you'll keep this information to yourself. You will, won't you?"

"Of course I will. You can trust me." She offered a small smile. It wasn't exactly warm, but it was enough.

'IT'S NOW OR NEVER, LIZ. TAKE THIS FUCKING SHOT,' she silently urged herself.

Boldly, she grabbed Red's hand and laced her fingers with his. "And I trust that you'll do the same for me."

Everyone's breath caught simultaneously, but Dembe recovered first. He grinned widely, absolutely thrilled for his friend.

Samar approached and put her hand on Liz's shoulder, meeting her eyes. "Of course I will. You can count on that."

As Liz heaved a sigh of relief, Samar pulled her in for a tight hug, and she dropped Red's hand to hug her back. Unable to resist, Dembe stepped forward and hugged Raymond too. "I am so happy for you."

Red's emotion-laden voice echoed the same to him and Samar.

When they all let go, Red took Liz's hand and lead her towards the front door, but she stopped him before they got there. "You aren't just going to take me home now, are you?"

His jaw dropped, and again he found himself feeling uncertain of whether or not he'd survive the night.

"Lizzie..." he trailed off, stunned with disbelief.

Liz grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for the deepest, hardest kiss she'd ever given anyone in her entire life. As she ran her tongue across his teeth, his lips parted, and she swallowed his needy, happy little moan, grazing his tongue with her own. His hands wound around her back and pulled her closer.

When they pulled apart, both gasping for breath, he maintained his hold on her and used his nose to brush her hair away from her ear, causing her to shiver in the most delicious way. Breath hot on her ear, he whispered, "If this is a dream, I think I'll die if I ever have to wake up."

Liz pulled back and gazed into his glassy eyes. "You know, it's funny you should mention that. Speaking of dreams... boy, do I have a story for you..." She took his hand and headed back towards the hall. "Which room?"

He pointed to the second door on the left. "That one."

As she closed the door behind her, Liz said, "You know, it wasn't so strange for me to assume that Samar was with you, since she was in the master bedroom."

Red pushed her back against the door, boxing her in with his arms as he twisted the lock behind her. He caressed her cheek and stepped forward, kissing her softly while parting her thighs with his knee. "I believe you said that you had a story for me."

"I do." Her eyes narrowed, but her lips were twisted into an amused smirk at his expense.

The tease! She wasn't gonna budge until he explained the room swap.

"Well, as you can see, this is a queen-sized bed. The master bedroom has a California king. It would be a little selfish for me to take that one by myself while they had to share this one."

"You are so sweet sometimes. Do you know that? I know that I've never told you."

"Am I?" He kissed her and leaned in even harder, his thigh digging into an intimate place that made her moan.

God help him. Red knew instantly that if given the chance, he'd spend the rest of his life chasing down that wonderful little sound.

"And you taste sweet too," she added.

"Do I?" His lips slipped down to her neck.

"God, Red... yes," she exalted, breathless.

"Tell me the story." He gently sucked her milky skin into his mouth, making her gasp.

"I... I don't know if I can, if you - if you keep doing that." Her nails dug into his shoulders.

"Yes, you can."

Fuck.

"I had this dream once... it started off as a nightmare, really. Tom came in and-"

Red sank his teeth into her neck, "Fuck!" She groaned. "I said it was a nightmare."

"You liked the teeth. Keep going."

Yes, she did. It surprised her, but she really, really did.

"He had a gun. I think he wanted to hurt me. I don't know. You walked in and killed him."

He growled, sending little shockwaves to her very core. "Now we're getting somewhere... then what?"

"I was sitting up in bed, gripping the headboard behind me, and you approached..."

Red stuffed his hands into her back pockets and switched to the other side of her neck. "What were you wearing?"

"Not... not much. And you raked your eyes over my body, and put your hand on my leg.."

Red abruptly lifted his head and stared into her eyes like he wanted to swallow her whole. Liz's legs turned into jelly, but he held her steady. He would never let her fall.

She knew that.

She had known that for awhile.

"And you used that voice - you know the one.."

He tucked her hair behind her ear, and when he spoke, his voice came out as rough as gravel, but also as smooth as the black label scotch that still lingered faintly on his tongue. "This one?"

She nodded and quietly whimpered.

"What did I say?" Still with the voice, god.

"You asked me what I wanted - what I really wanted."

"And what did you really want, Lizzie?" He hissed into her ear.

"You. God, I wanted you. I want you."

"Then what?"

"Then I woke up, just a trembling ball of nerves firing in all directions."

If he didn't have her standing there in front of him, in the flesh, then he would have been a little disappointed.

She gazed at him with hooded eyes, and her own voice came out so lust-ridden that she hardly recognized it. "But that was only the first dream..."

Red grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head. The other toyed with the hem of her blouse, his fingers just barely grazing over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I'm going to need to hear, at the very least, a summary of the rest of them."

She shivered and whimpered and tried her very best to lean forward, but he had manipulated her body in such a way that she couldn't quite get exactly what she wanted. He'd done it so smoothly, so masterfully that it practically made her vibrate in anticipation of what might happen next.

In a single, smooth motion, he pulled her shirt up, over her head and arms, and as he cast it aside, he released her wrists. Her hands instantly gravitated to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling with them blindly while he kissed her again.

Before she could even finish half of the buttons, he had her pants down. As she tried to push them the rest of the way and step out of them, he moved to her neck again and hummed against her carotid artery. "The dreams, Lizzie..." he prodded.

"God, Red..."

"Lizzie," he hissed.

She moaned. "Forgive me," and before he could ask why, she ripped his shirt open, sending the buttons scattering everywhere. "So, the other dreams are mostly variations of the first. You just... you have no idea how you've plagued me at night. So many nights..."

"Should I apologize?" He suddenly noticed that she wasn't quite successful in stepping out of her skinny jeans, so he kneeled in front of her to help. He tugged on the cuffs and let her lean on his shoulder. He rubbed the backs of her legs and kissed the sides of her knees as she replied.

"Well, I don't know... if you'd asked me this morning, I definitely would have said yes."

Red was mesmerized by her body. This particular view was his absolute favorite, by far. He loved the way she looked at him while he looked back up at her. He kissed his way up to her panties and bit down on the fabric, pulling it back with his teeth and letting it go with a snap.

He made it increasingly difficult for her to string together sentences, but she continued to try in earnest, for him. "Because we never quite made it ALL THE WAY, in my dreams." She reached down and grabbed his collar, pulling him back up so that she could push it off of his shoulders.

He took pity on her and finished taking it off.

"Sometimes you're rough. You don't ask me what I want. You just show me what you want instead, pulling my hair, pinning me down and ripping off my clothes... but you are always, inexplicably right. Evetything that you do is exactly what I wanted." Her nails dug into his biceps as she spoke, sharply punctuating every word.

"After I've ripped off your clothes, do you ever wake up naked?"

She giggled. "Sometimes..."

With a groan, his hips lurched forward and stuck there, pressed against her urgently.

And god.

He just -

She wanted to get him naked as quickly as possible. "Red..."

With his lips crushing hers, he almost seemed to read her mind, not unlike in her dreams. He sucked in a deep breath, stealing the air from her lungs.

Nothing taken that isn't earned, indeed.

That gave him just enough room to unbuckle his belt without breaking the mutually-craved contact. As he pulled it free of the loops, Liz wrapped her arms around his back, pulling his undershirt free of his pants.

He froze.

"Red, look at me," she demanded.

Not for the first time, he struggled to meet her eyes. Red hadn't deluded himself into thinking that this moment wasn't coming. It was always there, on both his physical back as well as the proverbial back of his mind. "Lizzie..."

She wasn't going to make him talk about it. Not here. Not now. The best way to prove that, she decided, was to show him that she wasn't upset, and she wasn't turned off.

She already knew,

and frankly, she thought that he already knew that she knew.

But maybe not.

She cradled the back of his neck and shoved her other hand into his back pocket, using both to pull him closer and latch onto his neck with both teeth and lips. The hand at his neck dipped down and beneath his collar. She pulled back to meet his eyes once more. "It's okay."

She kissed her way up and down the path of his carotid artery, relaxing her body in perfect time with his.

This feeling -

the way that he melted with her, against her, because of her - she loved it.

Sensing surrender, she grabbed the hem of his undershirt and lifted it up, over his head, and then let it drop to the floor. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him once more, reading his back in perfect horizontal lines, left to right, like a story printed in braille.

And it really was a story.

Theirs.

If only the first chapter.

Her tongue flicked over the scar on his carotid pulse - chapter two.

One hand slipped over the faint line on his upper arm from that grazing bullet wound - chapter three.

There were others, she was quite certain, from Garrick, The Factory, and probably Yaabari as well, but he had so many that she wasn't even sure which ones. They were more than footnotes, certainly, but less than chapters - for now, at least.

One of Red's hands closed around her right wrist, his thumb stroking the length of her scar while he unclasped her bra with the other. It did not escape her, not in the least, that ever since the first chapter, ever since he'd come along, every word, every feeling, and every perilous moment was permanently etched onto his skin, and not hers.

"Not exactly as smooth as that robot, huh?" He whispered softly, like a sad mea culpa.

"No, not nearly," Liz whispered back. She let him hang for only a moment before adding with conviction, "But the only thing sexy about Ultron is his voice, and only because he sounds like you. He isn't a survivor. He doesn't hurt. He doesn't love. He isn't passionate. He doesn't hope or regret or look at anything the way that you're looking at me right now."

Those reassuring words and the smile that accompanied them gave him pause - the very best kind.

Sheer revelry.

And while he tried to slip the bra from her arms, Liz clamped them down and leaned forward, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, taking care to intentionally graze her fingertips along the hardened length that was still uncomfortably confined by the fabric. She smiled at his little growl of frustration.

Only after Red's pants were off and he stood before her in tented boxers did she loosen her arms and let her bra slide down and onto the floor. She caught a quick glance at his eyes just before he dipped his head - and they were wider than she'd ever seen them, but they slipped to their usual, hooded state as he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, kneading her ass and the backs of her thighs with his hands.

As she panted and squirmed, she tried to finish telling him about her dreams. More specifically, the one she'd had the previous night.

"Last night, you were cruel, almost. You barely touched me at all."

Stubble grazing her sensitive breasts, he glanced up, somewhat surprised. "That doesn't sound like me."

"Mmm maybe not... but you didn't let me finish, not unlike my dream," she added pointedly, with a smirk. "You tied my wrists and ankles to the bed posts."

At that, he stood up straight and pinned her to the wall with his hips again. This time with only the slightest bit of fabric between them, nearly every breath was exhaled with a sigh or a soft moan. "Should I try to make that up to you?"

It seemed to her that he already was, as his hands wandered freely over each newly-exposed square inch of her skin. Even his mouth, in a style quite typical of Red, seemed to be on a mission to never stop, even as he seemed intent on making her do all of the talking. He moved up and down her body, kissing, sucking, nipping, and sometimes eagerly lapping. If his aim was to show off his tongue's dexterity, and make her imagine what he might do with it between her legs, well -

Mission accomplished, Mr. Reddington.

With both hands on the small of her back, he took several steps backwards, towards the bed, pulling her along with him as he went. Without pulling back the blankets, he turned around and pushed her back onto the mattress. She scooted backwards and rotated to lay on it properly, in the center.

With no intent of being separate for even a second, as she moved backwards, he positioned himself between her thighs, and while on his hands and knees, he mirrored her every move. For just a moment, he tried to hover just a few inches over her, perhaps in reverence or awe, but Liz wasn't having it. She wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his back to pull him down so that they lay chest-to-chest.

Red chuckled and peppered her neck with kisses. "What's the rush?"

She dug her nails into the back of his neck and thrusted her hips upwards to emphasize her point. "You call this rushing? Did I not just tell you that we've engaged in nothing but foreplay in my dreams for several months? I'd say that's long enough."

Kissing along her jaw and up to her lips, he shoved one hand between them and fondled her through her panties. "Sweetheart, what makes you think that you're the only one having wet dreams?"

She hissed in response, hips bucking upwards against his every move.

"But mine tend to make it all the way, and they're far more varied..."

And fuck, that voice again.

"So now, what I'm wondering is how Real Lizzie tastes in comparison to Dream Lizzie..."

She shoved his shoulders down, plenty eager to let him find out.

Again, he chuckled, but also mercifully complied, kissing and sucking his way straight down to her hip.

But then, in an unexpected move, he began to retrace the path back up again, and then across both breasts, pausing to devote attention to each one. "RED, please," she whined.

And so he headed back down again, to her navel, and finally came to a stop on the opposite hip.

"Red, if you don't keep going south, I swear to god..."

Oh, how he loved finally being privy to this side of Lizzie!

He hooked his thumbs into her panties and pulled them down, settling himself between her legs. With both hands caressing her thighs, he gazed upwards, meeting her eyes. "Before I do this, I need you to assure me that I'll get to do it again. I don't think I could settle with only my dreams in your stead. I'll want more, and I'll want it often."

"RED!" She groaned.

"I'm serious, Lizzie. If you want to back out - if you so much as THINK that you might want to back out, then I would urge you to do so, because this is your last chance. Yes, I would be tremendously disappointed, but no, I wouldn't punish you for it in any way, and I'd promise to never bring it up again."

"RED! Unless you are as awful at this as Tom, then the answer is YES, this will happen again, MANY TIMES."

He growled in response, discontent with even the hypothetical notion of such an insulting possibility. "HAH!" He abruptly hooked both of his arms behind her knees and hoisted her legs up, over his shoulders. He parted his lips and touched her first with only the very tip of his tongue. Her thighs reflexively clamped around his head. It tickled! As he pushed his tongue forward, inside, his lips closed around hers, and he laughed at her response. Whatever embarassment she may have felt was squelched by the pleasure he so eagerly gave.

Petty officer Virginia Sherman had absolutely nothing on his Lizzie.

He added two fingers to the mix with no manner of a struggle. With so much teasing, he probably could have accomplished the same an hour ago. As he curled them, he pressed his tongue flat against her clit.

And the pressure.

God, the pressure - it was more than enough to overwhelm them both. Red ground his own hips into the mattress in time with each thrust of his fingers and tongue.

His other hand lay flat on her upper abs, right in the concaved, triangular groove created by her bottom ribs. The tensing, jumping muscles acted as a litmus test for how close he'd driven her to the edge.

It turned out that he pushed her there a little too quickly for his liking, but the decision to stop there was one that he owned without compunction.

"RED!"

Well, without his own compunction anyhow.

"Sorry, Lizzie, but I don't JUST want to watch you come. I have to feel it too."

She nodded emphatically. Of course she did.

In the blink of an eye, his boxers were gone, and he humored her with a moment to gawk at the goods,

of which he had plenty,

of course.

Red found her doe eyes in headlights adorable, but her sudden case of grabby hands was a little concerning. He hissed when she wrapped not one, but both hands around him at once - greedy and intense, as incredible as it felt. He confiscated one of her hands, guided it back to her to collect some of the searing moisture, and then returned it to his cock, wrapping his own fingers around hers to spread it down his length.

His eyelids fluttered while his pupils dilated further and rolled back. But then suddenly he was RIGHT THERE, chest-to-chest once again, rocking his hips forward ever-so gradually that she would have hit him if anything was within her reach.

She gasped and arched her back, lifting her hips to take more and more, but Red was intent on not hurting her as she was filled and stretched around him. When he was finally fully seated, Liz shuddered and wrapped her around him, holding on for dear life.

"Lizzie, you're so beautiful, I..." He tried to sum up the feeling, but words failed him.

She clamped down around him and writhed, withdrawing one hand from his back to cup his cheek, guiding his lips to hers. When her lips parted to grant entrance to his tongue, he started to slowly rock back, withdrawing only slightly.

After being rooted on the very edge of orgasmic bliss for so long, it wasn't a surprise when she suddenly let go. Red felt her telltale trembling immediately, and responded by bearing down and thrusting both deep and fast while barely withdrawing at all.

And as beautiful as she was,

As exquisite as she felt, it seemed as if she might come forever - forcing him to summon every last ounce of self control over his loins. His cock began to throb so hard that it ached, begging to pound into her with an immediate release.

He groaned and bit down on her shoulder when she began her descent back to awareness, stilling his hips and digging his fingers into the pillow under her head. "Oh my god, Lizzie."

She felt both powerful and hungry, reducing him to a near corporeal defeat. Clenching down around him, she wrapped her legs around his waist and implored him to let go. "I want you to come inside of me, NOW. I want to feel it NOW, Red."

He thrusted forward twice before regaining control. "No, I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this to end yet."

She needed no words to command him to meet her eyes, and as he complied, she said, "But it won't. It isn't ending, Red. Remember?"

Feeling. Feeling.

God, SO MUCH feeling.

If only Ultron could understand. What a jealous robot he would be.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, absorbing the implication of what she said. Every motion that he made after that was all at once both emotionally and physically purpose-driven. Like disrobing the armor of his three-piece suit, Red at last discarded the notion that this shouldn't be happening, that he didn't deserve her, that she'd be better off without him.

Because he needed her

and she needed him

and they needed

this.

Bowstring-taut from head to toe, he at last, after holding on for as long as he possibly could,

let go.

And though his eyes had closed, Liz watched him carefully, mesmerized, as he throbbed inside of her, in perfect time with her pulse. The sexiest, most delicious thing she'd ever seen - he pulled her down with him,

and then he made her soar.

-...-...-

After another round, Liz pried herself from his arms, wrapped a bedsheet around her naked self and ventured to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, she dropped the sheet to assess the damage. On her torso, she found the result -and certainly part of the purpose - of his prolonged teasing in the bed -

A gigantic, capital 'R' that spanned from her breasts to her hips. She giggled at the image. "Oh, Red..."


End file.
